


Just You Wait

by ninjakins



Category: Scandal in the Spotlight, Voltage Inc.
Genre: F/M, Loss, Lost Love, Regret, Rekindling Relationship, Sad Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:24:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjakins/pseuds/ninjakins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Kyohei and MC had stayed separated in the Season One sequel? Set five years after they parted ways to pursue their dreams, MC returns to sell a song to Revance and Kyohei takes the opportunity to see her again. Separated by years of creative ambition and regret, he wonders if there's some things even the great Kyohei Rikudoh can't get.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just You Wait

The song ended like it started: rich, full of lyrical promise and hauntingly familiar.

"It's good." It was more than good, really, but Kyohei had been working with Takashi long enough to know their leader-composer hated excessive praise. There was something different about the lyrics, though. Kyohei turned the chorus over in his head but couldn't put his finger on it. "That's Ryo's?"

"No, freelance lyricist. An agent friend sent it over."

Kyohei raised a brow. It had been strange enough that Takashi had emerged from the studio, laptop in hand, and insisted on playing the new song for the entire group before dinner. Kyohei eyed him over his fried rice prep. "Since when do we consider outside lyrics?"

"Since now."

"Right. But you hate working with people."

"I didn't hate working with this one," Takashi said.

Kyohei's brow furrowed. "Didn't, as in past tense? You're saying we've already worked with this lyricist in the pa..."

_...Oh._

The realization hit him and Kyohei, cool, charismatic, king of the music industry Kyohei, felt his heart crawl into his stomach. He stared at Takashi. "You don't mean..."

"The lyrics are her's. Yeah," Takashi said with a calculated bluntness. "I was impressed too. I didn't think she was writing songs anymore."

"Whoa," Nagito's eyes went wide as he caught up with the conversation. "She's back? That's fantastic! Kyo you can--"

But Kyohei had been watching what Takashi had not been saying. "She's not back."

"Just a single song, freelance. One time sale. She's offering it exclusively through her agent," Takashi confirmed. "Last I heard, she's still in New York with some off-broadway fairy tale thing."

" _Technicolor Rainbow_ , modern rework of the Wizard of Oz classic," Kyohei corrected before he could stop himself. He saw the look on Leader's face and rolled his shoulders as he turned back to the stove. "Not technically a fairy tale. ...that's what I heard. I think. Somewhere."

 _Still in previews, but the early shows indicate it'll be a critical darling._ Kyohei may have had the clippings tucked in a drawer in his room.

“I’m auditioning for her new one,” Kota announced from the other end of the counter. "I heard she's writing a miniseries to film in Tokyo."

“What?” Kyohei’s head swung around. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s a great script, which you would know if you’d allow yourself to read it. I want the role,” Kota said simply, flicking his gaze back to his handheld game.

Kyohei couldn't interpret the rush of emotion that set him at the idea of one of the other guys seeing her again. Working with her. Being in the same room as her.Just like then. _Not when he couldn't even..._ “But she’ll be—“

“Working with her on it would be a bonus, guys. You know they’re calling her the ‘actor’s playwright’, now? She’s in high demand. I might audition, too.” Nagito joined in. “You’re not the only one who’s missed her, you know.”

Kyohei pretended to taste the fried rice in order to hide his grimace. As if any of the guys believed he needed to taste test the dish he’d made them all a thousand times over the last…god, fifteen years. He was surprised to hear Takashi’s voice cut the silence.

“We’ve all missed her, Kyo. But you’re the only one who grieved her.”

When Kyohei turned around, Takashi impatiently took his bowl of rice, face neutral as ever. “Whatever, I’m going to eat back in the studio.”

“I’m going to my room,” Kota said.

Nagito watched the other two leave and hummed contemplatively around a mouth full of rice. “All we’re sayin’ is she left, she isn’t dead. And neither are you, yeah?”

With that, Nagi padded out of the kitchen and collapsed in front of the tv. Kyohei frowned at his back before slowly turning to where Iori still sat at the counter, eating his rice in silence. “Well? You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet.”

“I told you to get rid of her a long time ago. And I was right: your careers both did alright by that.” Iori gave a haughty shrug. “But...it’s not like you to avoid it when there’s something you want.”

—

The show was minimally staged. Dramatic lighting and simple pieces kept the actors the center of attention, letting the audience's imagination paint in all the fantastical elements. It was the opposite of how most Oz-inspired scripts were staged, and it was brilliant.

The script was, too. Of course. More than brilliant. But Kyohei had focused on the staging through the whole performance so he wouldn't have to think about that.

And then it had been applause and actors filling the stage and the lead tugging a reluctant young playwright out on the stage to take a bow. As her hair swept forward in an embarrassed bow, Kyohei found himself uncertain quite when or how to breathe.

_She hasn't changed a bit._

That wasn't true, of course. Kyohei had kept more than passing tabs on her work after she'd left Revance to devote herself to play-writing. A mutually agreed departure, they'd said. So neither would have to give up their career, their dreams, for the other. An amicable break-up.

And probably the worst mistake Kyohei had ever made.

_You're Kyohei Rikudoh. You could have found a way. We could have found a way._

But he'd consoled himself with watching her dreams happen. Ever the attentive manager, Sasayama had started leaving clippings in Kyohei's dressing room whenever she made industry news. He'd seen the changes as she'd worked her way up the market. Shorter hair the year she got her first American production, the year she'd obviously finally gotten a stylist when she'd won her first Tony. And each year, a little thinner, sharper, not the wide-eyed amateur he'd bullied into ghostwriting for them years ago. Like the industry hard worn off her softest edges.

_But damn, she was even more beautiful._

She smiled, and those photo clippings didn't do her justice. She bowed and Kyohei, international idol, camouflaged in sunglasses and the glare of the stage lights, clapped loudest of them all.

\---

She snuck out the stage exit in the lull after the final encore. To avoid fans and media, but of course Kyohei knew every trick for that. He might have also paid a couple very intimidating American security guards to make sure no eager fans made it to the stage door tonight.

He stepped forward as she came out. Her hands were full of papers and she didn't look up from them to wave him off as she walked down the steps. "Sorry. The cast signs autographs in the lobby," she said in perfect english.

"What if I want your autograph?" he said in japanese.

She faltered on the last step. She raised her gaze slowly and Kyohei felt his gut tighten as she met his eyes. "Ky...Kyohei?"

Five years, and god, the way his name fell off her lips.

Kyohei kept his confident smile cocked just-so--he was an actor too, after all. He dropped his sunglasses down and approached with all the carefree swagger he did not feel. "Hi there, Little Miss Ghostwriter."

"Just Miss Writer now..." She corrected airly as she stared. Then she seemed to shake herself. "Kyo! What are you doing here? I hadn't heard anything about Revance playing in New York."

"You keep track on that, do you? I knew you were a stalker," Kyohei teased and she colored prettily.

_Thank god it's not just me._

"Business meeting," he explained. "Just here for a few days so I thought I'd catch a show."

"Oh," a complicated look flickered across her face then was tucked away. She drifted a step closer to him, both of them framed by the streetlight."So ...what did you think?"

"It's..." Kyohei hesitated, paging carefully through every possible word before finding one he could say without breaking. "It's got potential."

He saw her lips twist into a rueful smile and they both flashed, for an aching moment, on the brutal rounds they pushed each other through writing songs. She nodded satisfactorily. "I'll take it. I was thinking of tightening up the lead out to intermission."

_It's perfect. Don't change a damn thing. You don't need me to tell you that anymore._

"I actually came to talk to you about a song."

To his surprise, her face fell. "The song. You knew it was mine? I told Alister I wanted it pitched anonymously."

"Don't be an idiot. I'd know your lyrics anywhere," Kyohei said then hurried on quickly. "Takashi's already obsessing over the arrangement. We're buying it for the next album. It's...great."

"Really?"

Kyohei didn't know how much they were paying for the song. Thousands, millions, the surprise and unadulterated joy that broke across her face was worth it. She reached out an excited hand then stopped herself. "That's...that means a lot. Everything. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Kyohei cocked his head and risked a step closer. They'd closed the distance without realizing it. It was always this way with them. The pull and the sway. Magnetic even when he'd resisted it. Until they crashed into each other. The crashing had always been Kyohei's favorite part. "We want to hire you to do mo--"

"Don't." The word was soft, but an old wall instantly appeared between them. She stepped back, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. "Please don't ask me to do something I just can't do."

"You can do anything you put your mind to," Kyohei said softly. He didn't approach again.

First Ryo, then her, time and time again it was her. _Why am I always losing to words._

"I'm glad you think so." She struggled through a smile. "You always believed in me, Kyo. That's why..."

The silence was heavy enough that all Kyohei could hear was his twisting heartbeat. She rallied first.

She always was a fighter. He loved that in her.

"I'm glad you came," she said then chuckled. "Actually, I'm surprised you got tickets. We've been sold out for weeks."

"I might have pulled some strings," Kyohei admitted.

"Of course you did," she laughed, so light and bright. "You're the Kyohei Rikudoh. You always get what you want."

It was that laugh that found the chink in his armor. Kyohei look away as an ache developed in his chest. "That hasn't been true for a few years."

He glanced back to see her expression drift down in stages. After a moment, she took a weak breath. "I...heard you're going to be the Super Bowl headliner. That's amazing. Congratulations."

She was graciously trying to offer him a neutral topic. Kyohei wanted to do anything but accept, but she was smiling again.

Kyohei smiled too. "I heard your last production won a Tony. Best Play. I should be congratulating you."

_'Heard,' ha. Or I made all the guys stay up to watch the award show live. She'd worn a violet dress and cried through an acceptance holding a stranger's hand._

"Oh, thank you. It was all the production team, really," she demurred.

Kyohei couldn't resist pressing on. "Kota tells me you're doing a miniseries in Tokyo. Says he'll go in for an audition."

Her brows raised. "Really? He said that? No need for an audition. I'll talk to the director. There's a role he'd be perfect for!"

 _Why's she so excited? It's just Kota._ Kyohei felt a spike of old jealousy, but bit his cheek to tamp it away. "Tokyo, eh? That means you're coming home?"

_Please come home._

"Oh," the excitement died on her face. "Maybe, briefly, if there are some rewrites but...they're talk about the Tony show getting picked up for tour, so I'm going to be working out of New York for a while..."

"Oh, right." Disappointment seeped into Kyohei's voice and he let it. He tried for a smile that ended mostly bittersweet. "You're doing everything you said you'd do. You're not done yet, are you?"

Her dark eyes dampened and wavered. He wondered if his face was just as obvious. "I'm not. Are you?"

"Done?" Kyohei tried for his best cocky grin. "Please. Not even close. Just you wait."

"I still am." The words came out like a whisper and a second later her shoulders jerked. As if she was attempting to snatch the words back. Too late, because Kyohei felt his heart instantly grab on to them and climb. Hope was a bitch like that.

The wind picked up and twisted through the alley. Her hair ruffled into her eyes and she huffed to clear them, fruitlessly. The way she always had, sprawled across his couch, scribbled lyrics in front of her, too deep in a tangle of words and music to bother raising her hand.

Kyohei's hand was up before he realized it. His fingertips brushed across her forehead and she froze under his touch. They didn't drift, but they didn't pull away either. His hand stilled on her face. If a movement would require a decision, then neither of them seemed willing to risk it.

_We could have made it together, you know._

His fingers drifted to cup around her cheek and her eyes were wet, too full. Her skin was alive, so blindingly alive beneath his fingertips. Kyohei found the resolve to say it, say anything, everything. But she broke the moment first.

"I...should probably get going. It was great to... see you." She stepped away to retreat up the steps the way she came. An escape. Kyohei's hand fell. Perhaps it was for the best. They'd thought it was the best once and look at what she'd done and...

_'It’s not like you to avoid it when there’s something you want.'_

“Wait,” Kyohei caught her wrist before she could reach the door. He swallowed the lump in his throat and straightened. He didn't let go of her hand. "Coffee. We have to have coffee. Just...coffee. To discuss the song."

"An order," she murmered. She looked uncertain but then she shook her head and smiled softly. "You never change, do you, _Sir Kyo_?"

_An order? I felt more like begging._

"Why would I? I always get what I want," Kyohei said and his heart nearly broke hoping it was true.

She studied him pensively, seeming to read past the confidence, past the demands, to the naked drive and need underneath. The way she always had. Kyohei couldn't find it uncomfortable. He was much too distracted by the way her hand warmed in his, small fingers curling delicately over his. Fire in the skin. The feeling of touching her again.

Gently, she extracted her hand and stepped back. "It was nice to see you again, Kyo. Tell the guys hello. I've...missed you."

She turned, took a step away and Kyo felt his chest begin to splinter. Until she called over her shoulder. "Showtime's at 8 every night. It's preview week so I stay late to wait for early reviews. All night cafe around the corner."

And Kyohei Rikoduh smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> Because I felt like writing SUPER SAD POP STARS. Damn, I love this couple of creative babies.


End file.
